


Again

by Acaeria



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Gen, Post 'The Phantom Rouge', Self-Harm, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-23
Updated: 2016-01-23
Packaged: 2018-05-15 20:16:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5798506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Acaeria/pseuds/Acaeria
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You can’t die yet, Killua."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Again

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so this is another fic that I have to blame on Kat (@fullmetalkeyblademaster21 on tumblr)? We were talking about the hxh movies which lead onto talking about an AU in which Killua was hit by the train, but survived, only with a broken spine and an inability to walk.  
> The ending was all Kat's doing so don't blame me for that.
> 
> Pretty heavy warnings for suicide and death.

_ “What do you want to be in your next life?” _

_ “I don’t know. What do you want to be?” _

 

They sit in silence. 

It’s deafening. Killua keeps glancing up at where Gon sits at the end of his bed, staring at the wall, face blank and eyes empty. He can’t tell what he’s thinking, and it terrifies him. 

He looks away again.

For the first time in forever, Gon moves. Shifts slightly on the sheets, takes a breath, parts his lips to speak. “Promise me,” he says, “You’ll never do this again.”

Killua stares at him. His breath catches in his throat, builds up there like a dam, threatening to burst and tear his chest apart. “I promise,” he whispers, the words sounding numb.

He’s anything but.

Gon doesn’t say anything for a second, a moment, a minute. Then he nods. “You can’t die yet, Killua,” he says, and his voice doesn’t leave room for argument.

Killua doesn’t. He just tells him, “Sorry,” and hangs his head again.

 

Gon’s insistent that they’ll find someone to cure him. With every passing day, Killua becomes more and more certain that there’s only one person that could reverse this; and with the way he is now, he can’t reach her. Gon refuses to listen, only saying that they’ll find someone, one of these days. 

Whenever Killua or Leorio try to dissuade him, he refuses to see sense. So, in the end, they just let him believe what he wants to.

Exchanging pained looks every time he promises to fix this.

 

Gon’s still searching for his father.

He’d set the goal aside for a while, but Killua could tell that, after a while, it began to make him restless. He was growing sick of sitting in this tiny room all day at Killua’s bedside. Killua was sick of it, too.

So he told Gon to go out and look. And Gon did, but he was never gone more than a few weeks, a month at most, and he always returned unsuccessful. He was more relaxed when he did, though, and if he grew restless again he would leave once more.

Then, one day, he tells Killua that he’s got a proper, solid lead, that he’s really close this time, that he’ll be back soon, he promises. Killua rolls his eyes and tells him to hurry up and get gone before he loses the trail again.

“I’ll see you when I get back!” Gon says as he leaves the room. 

 

Gon doesn’t come back.

 

Killua finds out what happened almost a year later, from a friend of a friend of a friend of Gon’s, passing through. The knowledge sinks in his stomach like a stone in the ocean, lost in a dark turmoil of thoughts and feelings and emotions. 

_ Gon’s dead. _

The thought echoes in his mind like it’s the only thing that exists there. And maybe it does. Because Gon is- no, was, now- the reason he’s here. And now he’s gone. Gone. Gone.

Because Killua couldn’t save him.

Because he was stuck here.

He’d betrayed Gon.

He’d killed him.

Leorio comes in, and Killua feels nothing as he sees the realisation on Leorio’s face. Of course Leorio knew. Of course he did. He had just kept it from Killua to keep him content. But he hadn’t been content. He wasn’t content anymore.

Leorio opens his mouth to say something. Killua doesn’t wait.

“You don’t need to watch me anymore,” he says blankly. “I’ll be gone by the morning.”

Leorio freezes. “Oh,” he says as he turns to leave. 

_ Oh,  _ as in, he knows what Killua’s planning.

_ Oh,  _ but it doesn’t mean anything.

 

The only sound is Killua’s strangled sobs in his own ears. All day, since he learned the news, he’s been numb, deadened by the realisation. But now, the moon high in the sky, all the emotion held back breaks free, in the form of ugly, heaving sobs that rack his frail, fragile body.

His clawed fingers streak his arms and legs and face with blood, and he wishes he would bleed faster, just bleed out so he doesn’t have to feel this pain anymore. He presses his nails to his throat, taking several, rasping breaths, preparing to rip it out.

In this moment of quiet, his thoughts stilling and his hands held still, he hears footsteps outside, hears Leorio knock on the door. “Killua?” the doctor calls anxiously. “Killua, are you… okay?”

No, he’s not okay. He’s not okay because  _ Gon’s dead, oh God, Gon’s dead and it’s all his fault, all his fault, he killed his best friend, he’s useless useless useless… _

All of a sudden, Gon’s voice echoes in his head.  _ You can’t die yet, Killua. _

He freezes, and feels sick. He looks down at his body, muscles atrophied from lack of use, thin from lack of eating, covered in blood from dozens of weeping gashes and wounds.  _ You can’t die yet, Killua. _

He lets out another sob, tears streaming down his face. Hugs his knees to his chest. What would Gon think, if he saw him now? He imagines his friend’s face, marred with anger or sadness or disappointment. 

He wants to die. That hasn’t changed; the urge still claws at his chest, black and angry, begging him to tear apart his skin and let it free. What’s changed is that he can’t. Gon wouldn’t want this.  _ You can’t die yet, Killua. _

“...lua. Killua!” resurfacing from his own internal agony, Killua hears Leorio’s voice, full of panic and worry, stuck on the other side of the door. How long has it been since he last moved, or made a sound louder than a breathy whimper? 

He sits back, letting his legs fall down, and reaches over to unlock the door. 

It bursts open and Leorio’s on him in an instant, arms wrapped around him, holding him close, mindful of but not dealing with the gaping wounds just yet. He tries to say something, but all that comes out is a watery sob, and Killua clings to him as they both break down in tears.   
“I thought- I thought- I thought,” Leorio sobs. 

“I know,” Killua whispers. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”

 

Things get better.

Not right away, and not in a straight line, either; though Leorio patches up Killua’s wounds, the feelings behind them haunt his every breath, and he can’t quite squash that urge to tear open his throat and be done with it all. His sobs fill the air every night and he buries his face in the pillow, curls his fingers into the mattress, and releases the storm that’s been brewing inside him all day.

But the storm lessens with time. Some days are worse than others, but that also means that there are days better than most, too; days where he finds the energy to get out of bed, has the will to see the world, has the mindfulness to think of a way forward. 

He almost thinks it’s worth it to see the relief and joy on Leorio’s face when he thinks Killua isn’t looking. 

 

Eventually, he goes to fetch Alluka. 

He has to be creative with it, because he can’t run away, not the way he is; and he has no doubt that his family will try to stop him regardless of his physical condition. But he makes it, escapes with Alluka on his knee, her arms wrapped around his neck. 

He looks out on the world from the top of Kukuroo Mountain, and for the first time since Gon died, he feels happy.

 

Learning to walk again is a difficult and long process, but it’s worth it. It’s worth it to see the pride in Leorio’s face and the happiness in Alluka’s, and better yet, to feel free. To feel useful. To feel good again.

That first year they live with Leorio in his apartment, because over time it’s become Killua’s home too. Alluka likes to go up to the roof and look out over the city, ecstatic at being free. 

Killua likes to sit with her and stare at the sun until his eyes stream, thinking about the way things used to be.

News of Kurapika’s death comes at the end of the year. It’s a rough few months, and Killua tries his hardest to be there for Leorio; its the least he can do. He owes the man this much.

Then, when things have evened out a bit, he and Alluka leave. 

They travel the world, seeing all the things that have been denied from them for these past few years, for her entire life. All the cities and mountains and forests and oceans become their hideouts, their playgrounds, their homes. 

Killua finds Ging Freecs and kicks his ass.

He hardly ever has a bad day.

 

At twenty-two he’s walking through a foreign city with Alluka at his side, enjoying the sights and the smells and the feel of this new place. Alluka points out a crowd of kids, and suspicious, Killua drags her over to investigate it.

And watches in astonishment as a tiny kid, who couldn’t be older than nine, defeats a man covered in bulging muscles at arm wrestling. The crowd cheers as the man’s arm slams down (much to the man’s astonishment), and Alluka whoops in joy and encouragement. Her shriek catches the muscled man’s attention, and seeing the two of them watching, the aggressive body language he’s been sporting since his loss fades away and he stands to leave without comment.

As the crowd disperses, Alluka turns to Killua. “Onii-chan, can we stay and talk to him?” she asks. Killua agrees, and they go over to the kid, who’s stretching out his arm at the table where he’d been sat with the muscled man.

The kid looks up and gives a grin. Killua takes in his dirt-stained face, his bright white teeth, his golden eyes. “Hi, I’m Gon! What’s your name?”

 

_ “In my next life, I want to be me, and meet you again.” _

_ “Stupid!” _


End file.
